Just before dark Mr. Sperry, the FBI agent, made a surprise visit to the cabin. Grandfather Norton was there. Betty was wakened by Sperry’s knock on the door, so these three shut themselves in the Norton den.
“I came over here looking for a spy,” Sperry announced.
“A spy!” Grandfather Norton exclaimed. “We are all loyal people out here.”
“You don’t understand,” said Sperry. “He was last seen heading this way in a small motorboat.
“It’s that photographer over at Granite Head,” he explained to Betty. “You may know him.”
“Oh—oh, yes!” Betty was startled. “He did all our work. I never dreamed—well, yes, there were some queer things about him.”
“Queer!” the secret agent exploded. “I’d say so. He’s one of the most dangerous men on foot. We’ve been looking for him. He was a spy in India. Got out just in time to save his neck. He’ll do the same thing here if he can. You haven’t seen a small motorboat?”
“No motorboat,” was Mr. Norton’s reply. “Three lifeboats came ashore shortly after noon. They were in a sorry plight. Their ship had been torpedoed by a sub.”
“Ah! Those subs,” Sperry clenched his fists. “There are rumors of a sub being seen off shore here this very afternoon. Fisherman coming in from the Banks claims he saw it. All our small boats are out scouting for it. But me, I’m after just one man; and his name’s Carl Langer!”
“Well, we haven’t got him,” said the gray-haired inventor. “But if we see him, we’ll hold him for you. Never doubt that.”